


Don't hold out now

by SelenicSoul83



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 10:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13715913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenicSoul83/pseuds/SelenicSoul83
Summary: Newt is just trying to get his homework done, but Thomas gets distracted.





	Don't hold out now

It’d been two hours and Thomas was nowhere near done with his homework. Leaning back in his desk chair, he glanced at the clock for the third time in two minutes, the red digits reading ten past five. He was starting to get hungry.

“Hey, are we having dinner anytime soon?” he asked.

From his spot on the bed, Newt grunted a reply.

“Come again?”

“Sure,” he repeated more clearly. “Once I’m done with this.” He tapped his pencil to the textbook laid out in front of him, then scribbled another note into the margins.

Thomas let his head fall back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. No matter how many times he’d been warned about Junior year, the workload never failed to surprise him.

But he’d thought it’d be more bearable getting to study over at Newt’s place. They could help each other, take a break every now and again, and maybe even avoid completely losing their minds in the process.

Absentmindedly, Thomas started tapping out a rhythm on the desk. Tap-taptap-tap-taptaptap.

“What are you doin’?”

Thomas’s head snapped back upright, fingers halting against the tabletop to find Newt looking at him. “Thinking,” he said.

“Don’t exert yourself, Tommy,” Newt muttered, eyes back on his notes. He didn’t react to the pen thrown his way, failing to hit his head and clattering against the wall instead before falling onto the bed. “Missed.”

“I meant to do that.”

“You just keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Rolling over on his chair, Thomas propped his feet up on the edge of the bed, wiggling his toes against Newt’s arm. “I need my pen back,” he said.

Newt only shoved him off, not bothering to answer. He also didn’t give Thomas back his pen. “At this rate we’re never going to get dinner.”

“I can’t work without a pen.”

“There’s more on the desk.” Newt made a vague gesture in that direction.

Thomas didn’t care for the other pens. Really, he didn’t care for any pen. He got up from the chair, only to take one step forward and drop down on the bed, copying Newt’s position lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows.

Newt didn’t pay him much heed, instead continued reading his textbook, tracing the lines with his finger and muttering quietly to himself. He jotted down another note.

“Stop reading,” Thomas said.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I need to get this done.”

“Why?”

Newt heaved a sigh, finally turning his head to look at Thomas. “You’re askin’ a whole lot of useless questions. What are you, a bloody toddler?”

On his end, Thomas was too distracted to answer. Newt was closer than he’d realized, shoulder pressing against his, face mere inches away, sporting a deep frown.

“What’s with you today?” Newt asked.

Thomas glanced down at Newt’s lips as the other spoke. “Nothing,” he mumbled. He cleared his throat. “Anyway. Finish that so we can eat. I’m guessing pizza?”

“My parents don’t trust us not to set the kitchen on fire, so yes, pizza sounds about right.”

While Newt returned to his reading, Thomas took the opportunity to study him—really study him. Study the way his blond hair fell into his eyes, the way he tucked it behind his ear in vain because it fell right back, the curve of his jaw and the furrow of his brow as he tried to make sense of his homework.

None of this, Thomas found, was new to him. He’d been watching Newt often enough for these things to be as familiar as his own reflection. What he’d failed to notice before, however, was the way this made him feel. The burning sensation where they touched laying on the too small bed, the rush of warmth it sent through his chest when Newt glanced over at him. How he subconsciously wet his lips.

_Huh._

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Thomas blinked. He’d been caught staring. “I’m sorry.”

Newt looked away, down at his hands as he tugged at the bedsheets and bit his lip before meeting Thomas’s eyes again. “What are ya sorry for?”

“I—” _What?_ He was sorry for staring, because Newt had told him to stop. He was sorry for keeping Newt from his homework even though the boy had told him he wanted to finish that first.

He was sorry for realizing he really wanted to kiss Newt.

And he didn’t know what to do about that.

But before he could worry too much, before he could sit up and move away and maybe just pick up another pen and _act normal_ , Newt let his head drop down onto the bed, hiding in his folded arms as he let out a groan.

So much for acting normal.

“What did I do?” Thomas asked, certain he must’ve done something wrong. _Can Newt read minds?_

“Nothin’,” Newt said, voice muffled. He stayed like that for another ten seconds before he peeked up.

Thomas hadn’t moved.

“What were you thinking?” Newt asked.

“What? When?”

“When I caught you staring. What were you thinking right then?”

Thomas felt heath rise to his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t think of what to say. He couldn’t very well come out and tell him, right? He couldn’t just say—

“Be honest.”

“I wanted to kiss you.”

If he’d expected Newt to look shocked, appalled, maybe even disgusted, Thomas was mistaken. He hadn’t dared to hope for the smile tugging at the corners of Newt’s mouth, or for the blush tainting the boy’s cheeks. His eyes scanned Newt’s face, searching for an answer to his unasked question.

They were still lying on their stomachs and Thomas felt his arms growing tired. His shoulders hurt and his left hand was asleep.

When Thomas’s mind started to wander, Newt pulled him back by a nudge to his arm. “Do you still want to?” he asked.

“Yes.” Thomas didn’t have to think twice about that, not when his stomach fluttered the way it did.

The next moment Thomas felt Newt’s lips pressed against his own, and he didn’t care about his sore shoulders or tingling hand. He didn’t care about the homework forgotten on the desk, or the pen he’d missed Newt’s head with. He was too busy paying attention to every little thing about Newt to care about anything else.

To the feeling of Newt’s lips closing over his bottom one, the press of their shoulders, Newt’s weight shifting as the boy lifted his hand to cup Thomas’s cheek. Thomas leaned into the touch.

They parted, eyes wide before a grin broke out over Newt’s face. He fell forward then, hiding in the crook of Thomas’s neck.

Thomas cleared his throat, searched for words. After a moment he settled for, “Can we have dinner now?”

Newt righted himself, chuckled. “I reckon you’ve got some questions,” he said.

 _A few,_ Thomas thought. He nodded.

With a grin, Newt got up on his knees and leaped over Thomas and off the bed. He squeezed Thomas’s shoulder as the other boy sat up. “I’ll go order pizza, Tommy. And then we can talk.”

Before Newt could turn around and leave the room, Thomas grabbed his hand. “We’re good, right?” he asked, unable to keep his voice from shaking. _Why was it shaking?_

Newt bent down, pressed a kiss to Thomas’s cheek. “We’re good.”

Watching Newt leave the room, Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. He’d wanted to kiss Newt. He’d kissed Newt. They were good.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Not Enough' by Carousel


End file.
